Chapter 4

I dragged my trembling body over to the old desk in the corner and yanked open the drawer.

That was where the family kept legal documents, old receipts, and bank statements.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Mom shrieked, lunging forward.

"Finding the records of every single transfer I made to your account!" I shoved her hands away with a sudden surge of adrenaline that surprised even myself. "Give me my social security card and my bank cards! If you want to cut ties, give me back what's mine!"

"You're out of your mind!" Mom screamed, clawing at my arms.

Leo charged in, grabbing me by the shoulders and shoving me violently. "Get the hell away from our stuff!"

My emaciated body had no strength to resist.

I stumbled back hard, slamming my lower back directly into the sharp corner of the dining table. Agony exploded through my spine, my vision flashing black.

Another violent wave of coughing seized me. I collapsed onto the floor, clutching my chest, coughing so hard it felt like my organs were tearing apart.

Vanessa let out a shriek and ducked behind Leo.

Mom and Leo froze, startled by how frail I really was.

Taking advantage of their shock, I ignored the blinding pain and reached deep into the bottom of the drawer. My fingers wrapped around an old envelope.

Inside were my IDs, two bank cards, and several crumpled paper slips showing past bank transfers I had logged over the years.

I clutched the envelope against my chest like a lifeline.

"Give me... my money back..." I gasped, spitting blood onto the linoleum, my glare burning into them. "Or I'm taking you to court. I'll sue you for grand theft and medical neglect!"

"Sue us?" Mom scoffed, though her eyes darted nervously. "Go ahead! What judge is going to listen to someone with one foot in the grave? I'm your mother! Using your money is my right!"

"Let a judge decide that," I whispered, pulling myself up using the table leg. "Even if I die, I'll drag your names through the mud first. Leo, let's see if Vanessa still wants to marry you once she finds out your house was bought with your dying sister's blood money!"

Leo's face went completely pale. He glanced back at Vanessa.

Vanessa stood frozen, her eyes filled with shock and suspicion.

"Shut your damn mouth!" Leo yelled, lunging toward me again.

"Enough!"

A deep voice cut through the chaos.

My dad, who had been smoking quietly out on the balcony the entire time, finally stepped inside.

He frowned at the mess, his cold eyes landing on my pale, blood-stained face.

"Stop this pathetic circus," he muttered, turning to Mom. "Go get eight thousand dollars from the safe and give it to her."

"Eight thousand?!" Mom shrieked. "Why should she get anything? That's Leo's money!"

"Give it to her!" Dad's voice dropped, laced with chilling finality. "Let her take it and get out. Don't let her drop dead in this house. It's bad luck."

Eight thousand.

My fifty thousand had shrunk to eight thousand.

Barely enough for two or three chemo sessions.

Tossed at me like table scraps to keep me from "bringing bad luck" to their doorstep.

I stared at the man I had called "Dad" for over twenty years. A profound, icy numbness seeped deep into my bones.

In the end, I took the eight thousand dollars, grabbed my IDs and personal documents, and walked out the door.

Behind me, Mom kept cursing, Leo glared with pure hatred, and Dad never looked at me again.